Halton Cray (Shadows of the World Book 1) Read Free

into Halton Cray car park at twenty past
ten was exactly what I wanted to avoid – by about twenty minutes. I jumped out
of the warm car and shivered as a chilling wind whipped at me. It brought aromas
from the herb garden far west of the estate, conjuring up memories of my teens
I hadn’t held for years.
    Stacey text me twice within the last five minutes
to ask where I was, and to say she’d be waiting at the visitors’ main entrance.
This sat to one side of the house, in the north half of the manor, which
predated the south by roughly a century. The redbrick south addition was
two-stories with attic, tiled roof and dormers, extending the original stone house
to twice its size – making something of an H out of a U. The front of the north
half, faced with a chequer pattern of stone and flints, strewn with some
climbing plant to its slate roof, resembled a fortress. Sir Halton Cray,
Baronet, had the house commissioned back in the 1500’s and named after himself.
    Stacey leant against the wide oak door, its frame
tracked by ivy. I could barely see her through the increasing fog as I raced up
the path. She didn’t look at all upset with me for my unpunctuality, just waved
excitedly with her plum-coloured hair pulled back into a smart ponytail. She
wore a grey trouser suit and only a thin application of mascara. What a
different person she looked compared with the other night! Not half as ghostly
in the paler colours.
    ‘Sorry,’ I offered sheepishly, puffing to her
side. ‘I’m terrible, I know.’
    ‘Yeah, me too. That’s why I’ve only just got
here.’ She smiled. ‘Do I look okay?’
    ‘Definitely!’ I gave her a firm nod.
    ‘Thanks! I borrowed this suit from my sister,’ she
said readily, tugging the jacket down a tad. ‘I think it’s a bit dressy for a
shop but I really want this job, so I thought best dress to impress! How foggy
is it today? The weather forecast said nice and clear. If I wasn’t so nervous it’d
really creep me out! I’m starting to get butterflies now.’
    ‘You’ll be fine. You’re just meeting someone who
will ask you some questions.’
    ‘Yes!’ she said unconvinced, and somewhat distantly.
‘Questions. Okay. S’pose I’d better go in soon. Mind if I run a few things past
you first, about what I think the woman might ask me?’
    ‘Course not. But let’s get inside; it’s freezing!’
    I chafed my cold hands as we passed the empty
reception desk. Admission to Halton Cray was free of charge. The wide
timber-beamed entrance hall ran the entire width of the house, with Tudor
tables and chairs lining it. Hanging tapestry adorned the walls on either side.
I knew the scent of the place well: a chilly vault-like air, to me so familiar
and welcoming.
    We turned into the Great Hall. Not a living soul lingered
in here, and it was almost as cold inside as it was out. Not at all designed
for the modern central heating system, which failed miserably to change the
temperature.
    Stacey kept her voice low while rehearsing her
lines, twisting a loose strand of her hair round her fingers as she did. Still
the distant high walls threw back at us the ghost of her voice. As I listened,
I silently marvelled at the splendorous Hall, from its dark wooden floorboards
that creaked under us, to its double-height ceiling that bowed at the centre, from
the weight of the chandelier. Huge oil paintings decorated the walls above the
ten-foot walnut panelling, and the Minstrels’ Gallery with its oak balustrade
overlooking us.
    We circled the room as it began to fill with the
admiring voices of other visitors. To one side of the Hall, a huge ornate
fireplace sat empty but for an iron plaque. Its stone hearth so big that you
could lay out straight within it.
    ‘Alex, do you remember all the dares we used to do
in this place?’
    ‘Funny, I don’t remember you actually doing
any dares!’ I nudged her. ‘Go on then, I dare you to crouch under that flue and
look up.’
    ‘No way!’ She smiled.